


Imagine discussing being genderfluid with Loki, and him being sympathetic at any dysphoria you might experience not being able to shapeshift to suit

by forestofmyown



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: DFAB reader, Dysphoria, F/M, Gen, Genderfluid Character, M/M, Other, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 08:10:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4052848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forestofmyown/pseuds/forestofmyown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted on tumblr:  http://mogai-imagines.tumblr.com/post/119765665360/title-getting-there-summary-imagine</p>
    </blockquote>





	Imagine discussing being genderfluid with Loki, and him being sympathetic at any dysphoria you might experience not being able to shapeshift to suit

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr: http://mogai-imagines.tumblr.com/post/119765665360/title-getting-there-summary-imagine

“I hate my chest and my butt and my round face and my haircut and my height and how heavy set I am and my voice.”

Loki looks up from the novel he’s been pouring over, adjust his bookmark without looking, and snaps it closed.

“Finally ready to talk about it, then?”

You sigh, rubbing your face in your hands. “You asked. I hate being this negative, though.”

“I’m the one who wanted to know about how you handle not being able to shapeshift. If I had to remain … in that … form … ” He stares down at the floor, glaring darkly at nothing, eyes unfocused. Then he blinks, and it’s gone, and he continues breezily. “Well, I imagine I’d be rather negative discussing it as well.”

“I don’t like talking about what I don’t like about myself.” You rub your shoulder, looking away. “I went through that, being down, hating myself. I’m trying to get to a better place. To be more positive, and love myself.”

“Just because there’s something about yourself you don’t like doesn’t mean you don’t love yourself. Acceptance isn’t some sudden transition from displeasure to adoration. That’s just being dishonest with yourself. If you can’t talk about it, how can you accept it? By your logic.” He tacks that on at the end, and you notice he’s rubbing his left forearm. “You don’t have to love what makes you uncomfortable, but you have to know that, as someone who’s gender is in flux, and who’s body is static, you do not have the means to continueously change your form to suit. So this is what you must live with, like a wardrobe you inherited instead of picking for yourself.”

He’s thought about this a lot. Even if he can change his appearance at will, what he looked like at birth—what he looks like when the magic is stripped away—still weighs on him.

This talk isn’t just for you. That takes a bit of the stress off, knowing it isn’t just about you.

So you take a deep breath and continue. “I’d rather just look androgynous, personally. Then I could tip my looks to feminine or masuline or just be a mystery, whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. But I’m so obviously feminine, no matter what my gender is at the time … I’ll never pass. I hate it. It’s so … uncomfortable. And I look at myself, and most of the time, I just don’t see me. My body doesn’t reflect who I am. I just want to make it. And I can’t. I keep trying, and I can’t. Because sometimes I’m happy with myself, happy with my body, and it just makes it even more confusing because I know that that wasn’t how I felt before. It isn’t even how I feel most of the time. And I get so … disgusted.”

You glance up, peering at him through your bangs. He’s looking at the floor again. He’s stopped rubbing his arm, but he’s holding it tightly—so tightly he’s almost shaking.

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m just moody, and it doesn’t have anything to do with my gender. And I have to remember how I felt when I wasn’t thinking this. I know better—I know. Just because sometimes that’s not how I feel, just because sometimes things line up, doesn’t mean they always do.” You continue quietly. “I haven’t told any of my family. They wouldn’t understand. They’d tell me I’m a girl, because I’m physically what’s defined in our society as a girl, and I can’t take their doubt. It makes me doubt myself again, and it took me so long to get to this point where I feel like I’ve finally found who I am and why I feel the way I do at times. I can’t let them throw me into that confusion again. I have a label. I have comrades. I’m not confused and I’m not alone and I’m not wrong.”

Loki scoffs angrilly. “You humans and your backwards notions of gender and sex and binaries. Most of your people are so ignorant, it’s baffling you’re even surviving as a race, let alone dominating an entire planet.”

He stands, throwing back his shoulders, all of his full, glorious heigth. “Don’t let them make you doubt yourself. You’ve come a long way—so much farther than many others of your species—and you’ve found yourself because of it. Do not ever doubt yourself, because you are the only one who knows who you are—who can know you, truly. Others me help you sort it out, remind you of it, but they might also try to take that knowledge from you, because they have lost it in themselves and might not even know it. Stay strong, do not doubt yourself—and know that I do not doubt you.”

Your eyes feel hot. You look away, blinking rapidly.

His hand is on your shoulder, and you look up at him, swallowing hard. He squeezes a bit harder than he probably intended, Asgardian strength being what it is, but the message comes across all the same.

“I’m sorry you cannot change form to suit your fluid gender, Y/N, and the chaos it causes you.” His gaze is solid, calm and so sure and everything you need it to be. “But you have never made me feel insecure in myself, despite the world you were raised in, and you should afford yourself the same decency if you can. I know, if I could, I would take you away to Asgard so that you might know a culture that truly accepts you.”

You grin at that. “There’s an idea; a vacation in the stars.”

A few beats of silence surprise you, and then Loki’s low voice asks: “Would you, then?”

You frown. “Would I what?”

“Come away with me.” He’s still staring, eyes darker, more intense. “It doesn’t have to be forever. I do think it would be good for you, though. To get away.”

It sounds good. So, so good. And you sigh, leaning forward to rest your head against Loki’s. “I want to. So much. But I can’t run from this, Loki. My life is here, my family.”

“Well, then if you change your mind later and want that vacation … ” Loki shrugs, suddenly cool and flippant, settling beside you with a lazy arm over your shoulders.

You’re grinning again, trying to not chuckle. “Believe me, I will. It’s almost beach weather.”

Loki cringes. “Swimsuit weather? What a nightmare.”

“Says the guy that can switch between a bikini body and speedo model in seconds.”

He gives you a glaring side eye. “Blue ice monster.”

You stare right back. “Genderfluid yet assigned female at birth—with no magic shapechanging powers.”

Your eyes stay locked for several seconds before Loki gives you a slight nod. “Shall I decide on a planet to conquer for you as recompense?”

You snort. “I’ll settle for a new binder.”

“Done.”


End file.
